Get Thee to a Monastery
I was out of spiritual fuel. So I went where they make it.
Hey, kids! (we’re all children of G*d, right?) it’s been a while since my last post, so I’ve called RevDrSparky back into service to walk with you through the absurdity. I am so glad to be still on the planet — which is never a given, day to day — and even though the ethos of America is one hot mess, there is still water in that wilderness. Just test it before you drink it.
When last we chatted, I had gone on retreat to this small, intimate Benedictine monastery that I know, and there I had received what I felt was a clear call to emerge from “retirement” and serve a church again. I put quotes around “retirement” because I “retire” sort of in waves: first, I “retired” from the ministry; then, I had another career in HR and “retired” from that; then I got a part-time job in employee relations and “retired” from that.
I get tired; retired; and then tired again. Like a car. Last week I was tired. Here’s why.
So when I went to the monastery two years ago, and felt called to return to ministry, I did. I eventually was chosen for a one-year term as an intentional interim for a lovely progressive congregation with a wide-ranging spirituality and a deep desire to maintain…
